Time Siege

by Wesley Chu

  James made a last-minute decision as he passed the fifty-sixth floor to detour inside and find his flyguards. He didn’t need food right now, he needed another drink. He continued along to the smithy, where the flyguards bunked with a few of the other specialized groups. He really should have gotten food first, but he had other priorities right now.

  Bria and Dox were in their shared quarters going over the construction schedule for the elevator bank Grace and Titus had designed for the building. The two of them stared as he stumbled in. They looked worried. Worried and mistrustful. That set James off even more. These flyguards were supposed to be his people, his crew. For them to look at and treat him the same way the rest of the Elfreth did was a betrayal. He was their mentor!

  He was about to dress them down when he decided to get to the point. “Where’s the rest of the shine we brewed back at the garage?”

  Neither would meet his eye. Bria looked down at her hands in her lap while Dox stared hard at the ground. Neither said a word.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  “Elder…” Bria began.

  “Oldest Franwil told us we weren’t to give you more,” said Dox.

  The simmering anger that had been nipping at James since he left his quarters increased. However, he kept it in check and forced a smile. “Come on, guys, it’s me. I’ve taught you everything you know. Help your elder out.”

  “But Oldest Franwil said—”

  “Who cares what Franwil said?” James snapped. He stopped himself and struggled to remain calm. “Just give me a little of the shine. My back is acting up. That’s all I’m asking.” Indeed, his back had been hurting all morning. The little tweaks of pain sometimes became so debilitating it hurt to get out of bed. Only the booze helped him get through some of the worse moments. He took a step toward them. Bria and Dox, twenty and sixteen, respectively, looked frightened.

  Finally, Bria pointed at the desk. “Bottom drawer, Elder.”

  James opened the two bottom drawers and rummaged through the contents until he found a dented flask. He hefted it in his hand and swished it around. Half-filled at best. It would have to do.

  “Thanks, my flyguards.” He grinned. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  James waited until he left the room before taking a swig, feeling the warmth flow through his body and the edge in his nerves pulled back. He took another swig and stuffed the flask in his pocket. He had barricade duty now, whenever now was. He just knew that he was supposed to report down to the north barricade tonight, and looking out the window, it was dark outside. Barricade duty was just another job that he was way overqualified for; one more indignation on the long list stacked upon him.

  Smitt appeared at the stairwell exit leading to the barricade floor and held up his hands. “Look, my friend. I’m dead, so listening to me might just mean you’re crazy, but heading down there is a straight-up-awful idea.”

  “I’m fine,” James said. “I’m needed at the barricade. Finally some people around here need me.”

  “Not like this they don’t.”

  The Flatiron fight standing watch at the bottom turn of the barricade-floor stairwell looked at him and then averted his eyes.

  “What the abyss are you staring at?” James snapped, his anger lighting up in an instant. Everyone was giving him attitude these days. What a bunch of ingrates. Sure, when he could salvage, at a huge cost to his health, they made him an elder and looked up to him. Now that he couldn’t, they all turned on him as if he were a pariah.

  “Look, James,” Smitt said. “This isn’t why they’re all avoiding you.”

  “And you!” James turned on him, yelling. His voice carried up the tall narrow stairwell. “This is all your fault!”

  James brushed past the fight and kicked the rusty metal door, his foot passing through Smitt’s body, slamming the door open with a loud crack. Dozens of eyes followed him as he stomped his way through the hallway to the north barricade. At first, he tried to ignore them, but with each passing step, his anger reached new heights, and he began to throw those looks back in their faces. He stared them down until they looked away and pretended he didn’t exist. That was the way he liked it.

  The north barricade was silent when he got there. He walked up the stairs to the ramparts and nonchalantly nodded at the five others manning the parapet. No one acknowledged him, including the two Elfreth guardians. It was just another insult to gnaw away at James. This time, he chose to ignore the slight and do his duty. He looked over the side at the wide bridge connecting the All Galaxy to the adjacent building and overlooking the tri-section of Broadway and Twenty-second Street.

  On the other side, seven tribes were camped on the bridge. They were spread out all the way across and occupied half of the floor of the River Ford building on the other side. Most of the allied tribes had moved to the lower floors or taken residence in the buildings surrounding the All Galaxy. The new ones—and they streamed in almost daily—were placed here until more permanent arrangements could be found. All in all, it was bound to be a quiet, slow night.

  “You, Elfreth.”

  James heard footsteps approach as someone walked up the stairs. He turned and saw Maanx, the little snot. James had met the man a few times, and his disdain for all things Elfreth had been obvious from the beginning, worse now that Elise had become the center focus of this budding alliance. The self-important young man—he had to be in his early twenties—walked down the parapet, nodding to his three people and looking dismissively at the three Elfreth.

  He turned to James. “You’re late. That might be acceptable for your tribe, but the Flatirons do not tolerate such behavior. I especially will not tolerate this at the barricades.”

  Smitt appeared in front of James and leaned in. “Apologize and let it go. There is nothing to gain by arguing with a young hothead trying to make a point. You were late.”

  James sort of listened to his dead friend and tried to take a conciliatory tone. “I had something come up. It won’t happen again.”

  “Perhaps we should have some of our commanders instruct your guardians how a good fight crew is run.”

  Was this kid purposely pushing his buttons? “Like I said,” James said, in a slow controlled voice. “It won’t happen again.”

  “It’s no wonder your tribe lost your tower.”

  Smitt, shaking his head, stepped to the side and waved him forward with his hand. “Do what you have to do.”

  James froze and the blood rushed into his head. He looked Maanx up and down. He was tall and brawny, but his hands and face were smooth, partially from youth, but more likely from lack of experience. James knew guardians who were hardened veterans by the age of eighteen, and those who joined the ranks early had the scars, broken bones, and temperament to show for it. This boy had none of the three. “Who’s going to teach my people? You?”

  “You’re the one they call chronman. Maybe I’ll teach you right now.” The young man, arrogant and perpetually angry, walked up to James and stared down at him as self-important bullies often did. James wasn’t easily intimidated by large youths. He held his ground even as the taller man’s face came so close to him that their noses almost touched.

  “Leave the barricade. You are not worthy to stand among the fights.”

  “Worthy, eh?” James chuckled. “That’s rich coming from a kid whose father is the teacher. Did he give you your command as a birthday present?”

  The kid’s face turned red. He grabbed the front of James’s shirt. Left-handed. Kept a low guard. Favored his right foot. In one smooth motion, James trapped the boy’s hand clutching his shirt, chopped down on Maanx’s wrist with the forearm of his free hand, and spun, sending the young commander crashing headfirst into the wooden floor of the parapet.

  He had to give the kid credit; Maanx recovered quickly. In an instant, the young commander was up. He lunged at James, throwing a wild haymaker. Maybe the shine had dulled some of James’s senses or the kid was quicker than James had given hi
m credit for, but Maanx’s attacks came close to their marks. Close, but not quite.

  James stepped to the side, feeling his opponent slip and stumble. As he did, he shoulder-checked Maanx, sending him flying off the side of the barricade. The young commander fell four meters and landed on his side with a thud. He groaned, but got to his feet a second later. Resilient. Stupid, though. James jumped off the parapet and landed on his feet right in front of him.

  Maanx pulled out a knife and lunged. James dodged a slash at his midsection and popped the kid in the face. Maanx came again, this time trying to spear him awkwardly with the knife. James toyed with him, kicking the boy’s ankle as he came in, sending him tumbling to the ground. The boy wasn’t without talent; he was just raw. There was something familiar about the way he moved as well. He had some sort of training, though it was rudimentary.

  “Is this the best the fights have, commander?”

  Maanx roared and charged in again with two wild swings. James dodged the first and blocked the second with his arm, sliding in and throwing boy onto his back. James dropped a knee until it pressed down on the young commander’s cheek. He caught Maanx’s knife arm as the boy swung desperately, bent his wrist in awkwardly and plucked the knife out of his hand, then shifted his weight to the knee on the young commander’s head and pressed down. A guttural cry escaped his lips.

  “What in Gaia is going on!” Elise yelled so loudly her voice echoed around the cavernous room.

  James saw her sprinting toward him with Rima at her side. He got off of Maanx and offered his hand. To his surprise, the boy accepted it. James pulled him to his feet and leaned in close. “Your footwork sucks. Next time, I’ll show you how to properly hold a blade.” He handed the knife back.

  Elise got in between them and pushed James back. “What is wrong with you?”

  He tried to brush it off. “I’m just showing Maanx a few tricks.”

  She turned to him. “Are you all right, commander?”

  Maanx, still holding his wrist, nodded. He looked down at the knife in his hand. “The chronman and I were just running exercises.”

  Their eyes met and an understanding passed between them. James offered a small nod of thanks and then turned his attention to Elise, who jabbed a finger into his face. “We didn’t mean to make a fuss,” James said.

  “Don’t try to lie to me.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, this is getting out of control.”

  “What’s the problem?” he replied. “No one got hurt.”

  She turned to the guardians standing in a semicircle behind her. “Escort Elder James to his room. Place a guard there until further notice.”

  “Now hang on a minute,” he growled. “You can’t do that.”

  She rounded on him. “Don’t you say a word.”

  “After all I’ve sacrificed for you and these savages,” he yelled. “This is how you treat me?”

  Elise slapped him. Hard. James’s head swiveled to the side from the impact, and he saw stars. With a snarl, he stuck his face into hers and was about to tell her what sort of ingrate she was for mistreating and ignoring him when he saw the tears welling in her eyes. Something in him broke. It felt like a punch in the gut. The air in his chest abandoned him. His knees went weak and he fell on all fours.

  Elise knelt down and ran her hands through his hair, pushing it off of his face. “Please go,” she said softly. “We’ll work this through. I promise.”

  James nodded numbly. She stood him up and gave him a soft squeeze on the arm, and then she took a step back and signaled to a group of guardians standing off to the side. Four pairs of hands grabbed him by the shoulders and arms, though gently. All of them looked unsure and frightened. He had trained them and led all of them into battle before. Instead of struggling, he allowed them to lead him away, only glancing back at Elise when he heard her sob.

  The parade back up the floors to his residence was shameful. Word of his arrest had spread quickly and the people, Flatirons and Elfreth alike, came to watch the spectacle. The only thing that he could see was Elise’s face at that one moment he broke her heart. That look of disappointment tore him apart. It was the same look many of the Elfreth wore as he passed by them. He was surprised that their opinions mattered to him. They did, and his attempt at a proud facade broke. He hung his head and stared at the ground.

  They reached his residence, and one of the guardians held the door open for him. They stood around and tried to figure out what to do next. The Elfreth had never needed a jail before.

  “I’m sorry, Elder,” Poll, one of the guardians, stammered. “Oldest Elise…”

  James pulled out his knife from his boot and handed it to him. “Next time, guys, check a prisoner for weapons and confiscate them. Sweep the holding pen and then put two guards at the door.”

  “Um, thanks, Elder,” Poll said.

  “And stop being so damn polite to a prisoner.” James walked into the room and sat down in his desk chair. The door closed and he could hear the guardians chatting animatedly between them. He looked to the side and saw Smitt sitting in the chair on the other side of the desk. The two sat in silence for several minutes.

  James finally decided to break the ice. “I’ve really messed up this time, haven’t I, Smitt?”

  Smitt nodded slowly. “You made a fool of the teacher’s son for no reason other than the fact that he was a snot fluffing his feathers. He wasn’t wrong to tell you to get off the barricade for drinking.”

  James stared at his friend, tears brimming in his eyes. “I never gave you enough credit for how much you took care of me. You weren’t supposed to die. You were safe with your stupid desk job. Why did you help me?”

  Smitt sighed. “Trust me. I’m the first to agree that I wasn’t supposed to die. In fact, I should be enjoying the good life on Europa with a pleasure girl to warm me up at night.”

  “Why did you help me, damn you!”

  “Because you’re my friend, and that is what we’ve always done for each other.”

  “You should have just got pissed at me for knocking you out and then never talked to me again.”

  Smitt grinned. “And get stuck running Tier-5 runs with a bunch of fodders for the next five years? Nah, death is better.”

  James buried his head in his hands. “What do you think will happen now? Will the Elfreth exile me?”

  Smitt shook his head. “More of the Elfreth look up to you than you think. They also all know you have a problem. They’ll get behind you.”

  “What do I do?” James asked. “Tell me what to do next.”

  “Well, for starters,” the ghost of his best friend said. “Let’s finally address your drinking problem and apologizing to everyone. And I mean everyone. The list is going to be long.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  ANOTHER WAY

  There was bright yellow flash and Levin found himself floating in the depths of space in a small debris field where the old Lunar fuel depot used to orbit on the dark side of the moon. A few minutes earlier, he had witnessed the depot’s destruction as a refueling accident cascaded a fire across the entire station. He had escaped with eight hundred liters of low-grade fuel and two tons of aluminum. Usually, this sort of jump wasn’t worth a chronman’s effort, but Grace and the Elfreth had a much lower bar than the agency.

  Not for the first time, he felt a queasiness brewing in the pit of his stomach. This was the fourth jump in the past six days, the seventh jump since that disturbing encounter with Julia. Levin had had trouble sleeping ever since Madrid. He wasn’t sure why, but the incident twisted him up inside, even though he knew he would have changed nothing if he had to do it all over again. For him, that was his benchmark for making the right decision: that with full hindsight, he would reach the exact same conclusion.

  For some reason, thinking about Madrid angered him. His bitterness grew as he ran these inconsequential jobs. One after another, they sent him on errands to retrieve food, energy sources, clothing. What was the point? They were all stopgaps. Wh
at were they really accomplishing? All these jobs did was break more Time Laws and increase their risk of capture, either by ChronoCom during the jump or by the Co-op when they were sneaking under their blockade of the Mist Isle through that tunnel. The Co-op was bound to figure that out one of these days. Levin wasn’t sure if Elise was actually getting anywhere with her supposed cure of Earth. It didn’t seem like it, and if she wasn’t, what was he doing out here? He reached the collie and signaled to Grace that he was coming in, making sure they had an atmos field up before entering. He passed the netherstore container link to her and, without saying another word, marched to the back room to lie down.

  Grace appeared a few minutes later. She rapped the metal wall and took a seat next to him. “Clean job. Zero ripples.”

  He kept his eyes closed and rolled over. To be honest, he wasn’t sure what had come over him. The past few weeks. The Bastion. Julia’s face. All the jumps. He had forgotten how difficult it was to experience all those last moments. All that tragedy to parse, the faces of the dead dancing in his head. It was a lot to process, and he had so little time to do it, considering how condensed his jump schedule was. All he knew right now was that he wanted to be left alone to stew.

  Grace was having none of that. “You’re going to roll over and pout on me? Since when did you start acting like the chronman? I expected as much from our dour friend, but you, Auditor?”

  Levin took a deep breath and sat up. “Apologies, Mother of Time. The effects of all these jumps are weighing me down. We need to locate miasma soon.”

  “James said he was working on it.”

  “He keeps saying that, but he seems more interested in the bottle.”

  “We’ve been trying to locate some for nearly a year. Your ChronoCom keeps it tightly locked up. I have one more jump scheduled before we head back to Earth. After that, I promise we’ll take a little break.”

  Levin sighed. “Let’s hear it.”

  Four jumps on a six-day trip was insane. It was also an unfortunate reality, given the resources they possessed. Each of these jaunts out to space used up scarce resources. They had to maximize every trip. It was hard on the salvager, but he knew Grace had planned and scheduled everything as meticulously as possible.